This is Not Our Final Collaboration
by CSINut214andScullyAsTrinity
Summary: ...or is it?


_**ScullyAsTrinity's A/N**: This was the longest thing to write ever. But it was fun. And the phone convos were pure hilarity. Lauren's awesome, really. I wanna snuggle her._

_**CSINut214's A/N**: I still remember the first time I IMed Leslie, and I was all nervous because I fangirled her like crazy. I never would've kept writing for so long without her encouragement. Much love to ya, chica. Writing these parodies with you has been a blast._

* * *

"Are you sure?" Leslie's lip trembled uncontrollably. "But, but… why?" 

Lauren heaved a sigh. "It's just time," she said, in a lilting, gorgeous New Jersey accent. "My muse is snuggled up under Grissom's fugly blue shirt, and there's no hope of getting her back."

"But what about all the fun we've had?" Leslie insisted. "The angst, and the laughs, my god, the laughs!"

"There were many, to be sure. But this is my getting-off point."

Leslie took a moment to murmur _That's what HE said_, then continued. "But I'll miss you!"

"Oh, Les," Lauren said sympathetically. "You totally will miss me. I'm supercool."

"Wait a second… I have an idea."

"Pray tell, what is this idea?"

Grinning ferally, as she was wont to do, Leslie announced, "Let's tie up all the loose ends."

Lauren blinked in confusion. "Well, all right…" she shrugged, tangling her fingers in her hair.

"No, no, not split ends. _Loose_ ends."

"I'm intrigued. Tell me more!"

"Here's the plan," Leslie said, rubbing her palms together. "We let all of the CSI characters know everything we've been holding back. We orchestrate the greatest climax ever!"

"Like an orgy?"

"Wow. Anyway, we should split up to cover more ground. I'm thinking one of us should go to the lab, and the other should go to Grissom and Sara's paisley love-nest."

Lauren pondered the options. "Which one involves poking fun at Catherine's Botoxicity?"

"That would be the lab."

"To the lab!" Lauren shrieked, running for the door.

"Wait!" Leslie called. "Where should we meet up? How will I know where to find you?"

"Follow my trail of forensic evidence, such as shoeprints and clothing fibers!" Lauren threw over her shoulder as she ran out of the room. Then she stuck her head back in. "Or we could just meet in the break room."

"That works. Let's go!"

* * *

Leslie dashed up the lovely concrete stairs to the front door of a large, attractive house. Knocking excitedly, she bounced on her heels until an attractive, mocha-eyed brunette opened the door. 

"Ha!" she yelled, pointing. "I was right! You guys were totes living together all along! I win!" Dashing inside, the girl pulled a slim digital camera from her cleavage.

Sara spun and looked at the stranger in confusion. "Totes... you win what?"

Leslie was too busy testing the plushness of the carpet and committing some adequate syllables to memory. "Oh this is nice, cushy, plush, thick, _expensive_!" She nodded in appreciation and surprise and then threw herself onto the large, overstuffed, tasteful couch. "Oh, you had to have decorated, that man is so backwards..."

Sara walked into the center of the room and crossed her arms, "Okay, what the hell is going on? And why all the adjectives?"

"Damn bitch! Unclench!" Her arms flung out on both sides of her, camera in her lap, the girl explained herself. "I'm a writer, it's in my blood... and I write about you, so this first-hand experience will be really awesome for me."

* * *

Lauren ran into the lab, screeching to a halt next to the receptionist, Judy. 

"Las Vegas Crime Lab," Judy chirped. "How may I help you?"

"You can explain why it is that you're an incredibly minor character who nonetheless manages to date everyone from Vartann to Nick to Sofia in fanfiction," Lauren said, narrowing her eyes.

Judy frowned. "How can I date Sofia? Didn't she get eaten by a bear?"

"God, you're good," Lauren nodded, then took off down the hall.

"Hey!" Hodges yelled, sticking his head out of the trace lab. "No running in the halls!"

Spinning around, Lauren glared at him. "God, Hodges, don't get your pink lace panties in a twist."

His eyes widened. "How did you-"

"I followed the evidence. When you left _Veronica's Closet_, wardrobe staff reported them missing."

"Are you going to… tell anyone?"

She smiled flirtatiously. "Hodges, don't you know that pink lace panties on a man can be very attractive?"

He waggled his eyebrows. "Really?"

"No. Not really."

* * *

Meanwhile, Sara was still gaping at Leslie. "You... write about me?" 

The girl snapped off a few pictures of the tall woman before her. "Absolutely. And your man there... I assume he's in the bedroom."

"Yeah..." Sara said. "How in the hell did you know that?"

Leslie shrugged and grinned at her, "Oh it's just I imagine you two into zillions of different positions and wax poetic about the size of his-" 

"Enough!" Sara attempted to cut her off, but she was on a roll.

"Really, it's basically like the Kama effin Sutra in my head, with crap flying everywhere and-"

Sara's hands flew up to halt the words and Leslie stopped, waiting for the moment to expire and when it didn't she snapped another picture.

"Okay, I want to know how you got here and what you're-"

"Oh just relax, this isn't the X-Files, I'm not gonna shove a stiletto into the base of your ne-... never mind," Leslie said, stretching her long body out on the couch. "But seriously, really nice place you have here."

Just then, a voice called from the bedroom, sultry and ridden with sleep. "Hun, you coming to bed?" Both women were immediately aroused; their pheromones began battling for dominance. Sara's wonderfully scented arousal beat back Leslie's lesser scent and the young woman sagged on the couch.

"Um, we uh, we have a visitor... I think..." Sara took a few steps back and waited for Grissom to enter.

He did, immediately spurring the "visitor" into a bought of hyena cackles. "Oh, really, come on now... you're obtuse and ignorant to fashion but this is _so_ not Boca Raton, and you're not fifty for four more days."

Grissom's eyes widened as he walked to where Sara stood, wrapping an arm around her waist. "Excuse me, but who are you? ... And how the hell do you know how old-"

"Well," Leslie sighed with dramatic emphasis, "The _Companion_ states that you were born on August 17, 1956 - but then again, we all know the inconsistencies between the companion, the website and canon..." Leslie gave them a sly, knowing look, "And I know you two know about canon..."

Sara stared blankly at her red-hot lovah (and he is a lovah, because Leslie is a Boston girl) and shook her head. "I have no earthly idea what she's talking about."

"God, you'd think you two would catch on, I mean you went to Harvard and you went to UCLA so..." Leslie pretended not to notice as their eyes went wide and their bodies and limbs tensed. 

Leslie shook her head. "What did I say? No clenching!"

* * *

Lauren sauntered into one of the evidence rooms, where Nick and Greg were peering at several items on the table. 

"What's up, guys?" she asked.

"We're examining evidence," Greg said, imagining Nick in a flesh-colored thong.

The evidence scattered across the table was a bit confusing, to say the least: a smushed candy bar, a pair of battered flip-flops, and two broken ceramic gnomes.

Lauren furrowed her brow. "I don't get it."

"Well, here's what happened," said Nick. "A bitter ex-girlfriend was trying to kill her old flame, and pushed a cannon off a balcony."

"Okay," she said. "That makes no sense and is quite probably impossible, but please, continue."

"She missed the guy, and instead hit these items."

"Ohhh," she nodded finally. "So cannon crushed the Snickers, the Sandles, and…"

"The Grillows," Greg supplied.

"Those are Grillows?"

He shrugged. "Go with it."

"Okay, so the crime committed was…"

"None," Nick grinned happily. "There's no crime in canon crushing all that."

"You mean cannon," Lauren corrected him.

"Right. What'd I say?"

"You said you want to strip Greg naked and spank him."

"Goddamn right I do. Wait, I said that?"

* * *

"We'd like you to leave," Grissom said cautiously as Leslie snapped off another picture. 

"OMG!" she squeed, kicking her feet in excitement, "I can't wait to post these on LJ!"

Sara slid her hand down Grissom's arm, prompting him to speak again. "Honestly, you're frightening-"

"Please! I'm harmless, I'm just you know... marinating in the atmosphere here... I didn't mean... marinating as in meat," the girl stuttered, standing up, "I know you're a vegetarian, I didn't mean to offend..." 

"Not offended," Sara was quick to point out as she slipped from Grissom's grip. "I just... you're here because... you're a writer and you... write about us...?"

"Mmm hmm," she murmured happily as she made her way to the large refrigerator in the open kitchen. "Oh! Cheese sticks... and BEER!"

Sara perked up and moved to the divider, "You like cheese and beer?"

"Goob gob jess!" she murmured through the mouthful of dairy product she had. Leslie swallowed. "Both are... so awesome." Sara nodded vehemently. "Do you like Monopoly?" Leslie continued, moving closer to the divider.

"Yes! Monopoly is awesome!" Sara curled her fingers around the wood separating her from their impromptu guest.

"Sa-weet! Wanna play?"

Sara looked back to Grissom, noticing his stricken look. She ignored it. "Definitely, just let me-"

Just then, the X-Files theme song cut through the room. Sara jumped; Grissom straightened his spine. Leslie reached behind her and extracted a small cell phone from her pocket. "Oh, it's a text from Lauren," Leslie's voice dropped a few notches. "Damn it woman, I was gonna write us a threesome! I've never written one of those!" Typing a quick response back to her friend, she clipped the phone shut and crunched the beer can against her forehead.

"Thanks for having me and not kicking me out! I'll email ya!" And with that, she was gone.

* * *

Lauren found Catherine Willows in the locker room, touching up her makeup. 

"Hey," Lauren said, leaning against a locker. "How's it going?"

"Okay," Catherine barked abruptly. "Except I have a teenaged daughter who just told me she wants a tattoo for Christmas. How do I even respond to that?"

"Tell her it's June?"

"She's never been good with time. Always insists on aging rapidly. Anyway, who are you?"

"I'm Lauren. I write fanfiction and tend to make fun of your over-injected lips and gaping cleavage."

"I'm so angry and offended," Catherine seethed. "If I could frown right now, or make any expression other than this perpetually indifferent one, you'd be in real trouble."

Just then, Warrick entered the locker room, with Leslie right behind him.

"Hey!" Catherine objected. "Who's she? I'm supposed to have the biggest rack in any given room!"

Warrick shook his head in agitation, "She just caught up to me in the hall." Looking back at the young woman, he spun back to face Catherine. "She's being lewd."

"What? All I said was that I wanted to lick-"

"Enough!" Catherine said, throwing her hands up over-dramatically.

Lauren high-fived Leslie, then looked Warrick up and down.

"Okay, I won't mention the unbuttoned shirt, because that's been done to death. And I won't complain about the tight pants, because they're crotchtastic and I'm enjoying the view. So I can't really come up with anything. Les?"

"Yeah what's up with the wife?" she drawled, sliding onto a bench before them. "Because ah... let's take a gander at exhibit A..." She gestured to Catherine, looking her up and down.

"Annnnnnd, let's consider Tina, exhibit B," she said quickly, clapping her hands together before spreading them before her, palms up. "Um, it's not the coworkers thing because Grissom and Sara are TOTALLY humping like bunnies-"

"What?" Catherine screeched.

Lauren nodded earnestly. "Yup, and Grissom has an eleven-inch-"

Just then, Brass ran into the locker room.

"Everyone okay?" he panted. "I heard over the scanner that there was snarking going on, and I didn't want to miss out."

"Ummm, can I just say," Leslie hopped up onto the bench and threw her arms out to the side. "I looooooooove you!"

Brass looked vaguely uncomfortable. "Um, guys, what's going on?" His eyes moved between Catherine and Warrick.

"You know..." Lauren said thoughtfully. "That would be an interesting threesome."

Leslie stared at her friend for a moment. "I can't believe you just said that.. I-... what the... and... ugh!" Hopping off of the bench, she moved to Brass and slid her arm though his. Confused, he glanced down at her. "Is that your gun or are you just happy to see me?" she said lewdly.

"That's my gun," he said frankly.

The woman sighed. "Damn, I can't even get laid by my fourth choice in my own damn fiction."

"That sucks," Lauren said sympathetically. "I've already done Grissom twice."

"What?"

"Yeah. While we've been in this locker room."

"Hey," Grissom said sheepishly, popping out from behind a fern.

Sara slapped him. "How dare you hide behind the fern that you ordered for me after you forgot I was a vegetarian and then reduced my leave of absence request down to a single quirk-"

"Yes!" Lauren crowed. "Overexposition alluding to a past episode! Wouldn't be fanfic without that!"

She then turned to her friend, "Uh, Leslie, don't you have somewhere to be?"

Leslie frowned. "Aw, I'm not ready to say goodbye!"

"Come on," Lauren nodded, taking her hand. "I'll take you home."

"No way! I wanna go see Nick and Greg... and spend some more time with Brass," her voice dropped in volume. "Butter him up a little, you know?"

"That's sick," Lauren spouted.

"HEY! All these men, someone has to take the damn bait!"

"I believe I can be of assistance." Ecklie stood in the doorway, the fluorescent lights illuminating his bald head.

"Oh. Dear. God... think before you SPEAK!" she yelled at herself and with that Leslie tore Brass out of the locker room and down the hall. "Now, can I take you and Mr. Stokes and Mr. Sanders out to breakfast?"

Brass thought for a moment, "Where would be go?"

"The _diner_, of course... you know, the diner that everyone everywhere refers to when they want someone in the fandom to go out to eat?"

Lauren watched them go as she sat in the break room, sipping Blue Hawaiian coffee. Which really was pretty good.

Doc Robbins wandered in. "So is it true?" he asked. "Are you really retiring?"

"Looks that way," she nodded. "Grissom and Sara are a couple. What's the point in writing about it, when it's true onscreen?"

"Yeah, I see what you mean," he nodded. "That's why I write Grissom/LH fanfic, because I know it'll never happen."


End file.
